Thirty thousand feet in the air, sucking on emergency oxygen to sober up, "creating" half-hourly reports on what the plane´s instruments said:

That was how Jim H. of Covington often functioned while a key crew member of an Air Force AWAC (Airborne Warning and Control) E-3A jet over the skies of Okinawa, Korea, Germany, Australia, the U.S. and much of the rest of the world. Jim, who changed his life with sobriety on Oct. 10, 1982, was a master sergeant, the flight engineer on these Boeing 707 four-engine jets which flew the world searching for bad guys.

"When I got flight status, I thought I had arrived, as Bill W. said. That´s the job I held in my last 12 years in the Air Force. But then I got my first DUI in Okinawa. On the ground, of course. I ran over a curb, flattened two tires and was trying to steer through all these trees to get to the parking lot so I could go to bed. I made it, but it must have been noisy. In the wee hours, the Air Police rousted me out of bed and arrested me. I never got a promotion after that."(The Air Force has two enlisted ranks above master sergeant.)

Six months later, back at McChord Air Force Base, Tacoma police nailed him for another DUI. "The Air Force has a policy that anyone arrested for an alcohol-related crime is automatically discharged unless the squadron commander objects," Jim said. His career was saved by the human relations staff member "who went to bat for me." Turned out this person was himself a member of the fellowship, took Jim to his first meeting, in Spanaway, and became his sponsor.

"That was Oct. 12, 1982. I had a month of fear sobriety, as Bill put it. My sponsor told me it would enhance my career if I joined A.A., so that´s what I did after that first month, and my whole life changed."

As for the "created" instrument readings on board the AWAC, maybe it wasn´t as bad as it sounds. "It was my job to read the instruments every half hour. Many, many times, I came on board hung over ´cause I hadn´t complied with Air Force policy, ´Twelve hours between the throttle and the bottle.´ Soon as I got on board, I´d go for the pure oxygen to sober up, then go lay down to sleep. I had to read the instruments every half hour, so I just made up the readings. I could estimate, I knew them so well."

These planes stayed in the air as long as 14 hours, and one of his tasks was to supervise the aerial refueling from KC-135 tankers. "I was usually in shape by refueling time," Jim said. His longest ride was 24 hours on a still-confidential Middle East mission. He won´t talk about the details, except to say the plane had to land when the toilet was about to overflow.

He was grounded for 18 months at McChord after his second DUI, but regained his flying status through the good offices of his sponsor and was assigned to four-engine C-141 Starlifters. He was on a checkout flight to Australia, "anxious and nervous" over the results, when he got another big hand up from A.A. at an Aussie meeting. "They had a sign there that said ´Don´t Expect Too Much Too Soon.´ That took me by storm. A weight of fear was lifted from my shoulders, and I flew for the next six years without any problems. I retired in 1988."

"I went to meetings all over the world. Often, someone from the fellowship would be there to pick me up, and the rest of the crew would wonder ´How come?´ I´d just say they were friends I had not yet met."

Jim got into what he calls "problem drinking" relatively late in life, while he was in training at the age of 18 in Texas. He became an alcoholic, in his judgment, during the year he spent in Vietnam during that war. He was an aircraft mechanic, servicing F-100 fighters at Phan Rang Air Base. "Phan Rang was known as happy valley till the Tet offensive in ´68. That´s when I lost my feeling that I was invincible. Rockets and mortars came raining down on us. Two parked aircraft were blown up. I was hunkered down next to a revetment wall with an air policeman who took a shrapnel hit in the back. I wasn´t hurt, but I was a bit afraid after that."

That was his second tour in Vietnam. He had married for the first time on a home leave. During that marriage, his wife discovered that he was a chip off the old block. Jim says his father was "a great fear motivator who had a big old razor strap to keep me in line. I was determined not to be like him, but it didn´t turn out that way. We had two children, a girl and a boy. I was very abusive, beating them just like my father did to me. I reluctantly admit that I was emotionally abusive to my wife. There were terrible times when I was drunk, but I could never bring myself to apologize.

"I think now that God intervened and removed me from their lives. In 1978, my wife divorced me and took the children back to Illinois. They were seven and five. I was not in their lives after that. They´re adults now. I think they´ve forgiven me. We call each other and there´s an occasional visit."

Jim married twice more, with no success. His second marriage lasted one week, and his third wife, a "sweet young thing" he met through the 13th Step, turned into a party animal when he was off flying, so he ended it. It´s been 23 years now since he´s been married, but he still believes in the institution. "People ought to be married. They complement each other and rely on each other to be whole," he says, adding that he´s still open to the idea if the right person comes along.

The time after his first marriage ended was a bitter-sweet one for Jim. His marriage had ended, but he was accepted for flight engineer school about the same time. "It was the pinnacle of my career in the Air Force, but there was no one to celebrate it with. I spent time at the NCO club looking for one-night stands."

Jim retired in 1988 while at McChord and moved to Tacoma, where "I was gonna make millions in real estate." When that didn´t work out, he trained as an alcoholism counselor and worked in several South King and Pierce centers until he decided his fellow counselors were sicker than his clients. "I had a good reputation in the field, a Big Book thumper who stuck to the 12 Steps. Other counselors´ clients were drawn to me, and that caused resentments. I finally quit and went into the business of cleaning commercial buildings and job sites."

He´s been heavily into A.A. service almost from his first day of sobriety. The South End A.A. bookstore was his baby until Mike R. took over the responsibility. Currently, he´s using his strong interest in history working with the Area 72 (Western Washington) archives, dubbing backup tapes and working with their historic documents. The latter includes a first edition, first printing of "Alcoholics Anonymous," signed by Bill W. He´s active in other "alphabet things," as he describes the myriad sets of initials which describe A.A.´s various programs. One was P.I. (Public Information), which he got into "big time," speaking to students at every level. That job took him all over the state and as far as Montana. He started the Covington Study Group and has been the Grapevine representative for his district. And he sponsors several men. The list goes on. His home group is the Covington Roundtable.

A.A. has produced a profound change in the way Jim views life. "I have established a relationship with God that has worked for me for 25 years now. I can´t kid myself anymore. I´m not nearly as self-centered as I used to be. I don´t lie, cheat or steal. There was always a load of guilt and shame and remorse to carry around. That´s no longer a part of me."

When asked what he thinks about life today, Jim said, "Well, of course the standard response is that I´m blessed. But I truly am. I have lots of responsibilities that I don´t want and I´m working too many hours. But life is good. There is no temptation to drink. God removed the obsession from me in the first six months of my sobriety.

"In the very depths of my soul, I have lost the privilege of drinking. As Dr. Bob said, I abused the privilege so badly that I have lost it. As long as I stay in contact with God, the obsession will never return."

Interviewed and written by Dick S.